Anthony dies
Going back to Verona the ambassadors had to travel on horseback. But Anthony remembered that Francis had prohibited to the friars to go horseback riding. Because of that, he decided to walk. However, the friars being concerned of his health were able to convince him to sit on a cart trained by a donkey.
The road at the onset crossed a flat lowland, swampy, that followed the shore of the river. Little far, beyond the city of Lonigo, were the possessions of the count Santbonifacio. The wife of the count had sent for Anthony with the invitation to spend the night at the palace.
The twilight was descending, when the cart arrived at the portal of the palace. The countess ran out, to welcome the guest. She was a young beautiful woman, belonging to a noble lombardo lineage. The marriage had been taken place not long ago, the couple loved one another very much. The woman was desperate. The peremptoriness of Ezzelino, that had made her to be sent away from the castle and hadn`t even wanted to listen to her demands, had convinced her that the husband was going to be condemned to death. While sobbing she said:
"By mercy of God, friar, save my husband… Save him… I love him… We have waited in vain for two years for a son. Now that God has blessed us, and I have to give to my husband an heir, Ezzelino menaces my husband of death…"
She had golden hair and big black eyes. The pregnancy had rendered her delicate features seem as carved in the ivory by a skilled artist.
"Ezzelino" she continued "is an intractable man. He has remained a barbarian German as his grand father. My sister is unhappy, to have him as a husband. And that Gualberto that he has brought from Padua, is an authentic monster! A wicked! Friar Anthony, I beg you, I implore you!" she fell on her knees. "Save my husband. I am told that every thing that you ask to God, he will grant it to you, always! "
"Stand up, countess. I beg you, stand up. It is not true that God grants every prayer. But I believe that if all of us pray, we will impetrate the salvation for your husband. In particular you, madam, should pray God. Our Lord, Jesus, particularly blesses a woman that is expecting a son. Her prayer is always granted, since she pray with two mouths. You can even imagine how much Jesus loves the women who are attenting an heir. Thanks to their suffering and to their efforts arrives on earth a new human soul. They are authentic collaborators of God in the work of growing in the world, to which God wants to give joy. Therefore, pray, and be confident."
An elderly maid accompanied Anthony to the room assigned to him. It was a big room a little dark. In a corner on a small table there was a statue of the Madonna with a child on her arm. In front of the stature was burning a candle.
"The countess has promised this statue to our parish priest as an offer for the salvation of her husband" said the woman, placing on the table the burning candle and checking that there was water in the jug. "It was sculptured by a Verona skulptor. Oh, if God want to grant this mercy to our lady!" she sighed while weaving her hands.
"I have been her nanny. I have been always on her side. I know her since she was very little. She is so good-natured. And she loves very much her husband. In these times, in which there are so many unhappy marriages, theirs is really a model marriage… Pray, friar Anthony, that the Lord show them mercy."
"You too, pray, so that will happen what we all desire."
The old maid left and Anthony knelt in front of the statue. Even if didn’t have to walk, the trip on the cart had been hard, jolted over the stones, and it had tired his so much. All his body was in pain. All the same he decided not to lie down and to keep watch that night so that he would have good result the day after.
The trembling light of the oil lamp flooded of spots the face of Mary. Maybe the sculpture, in creating of the holiest Virgin, had taken as a model the countess of Sanbonifacio, because there was a great resemblance between the face of Mary with the face of the countess. Remained on it the same expression of suffering, of fear and at the same time of hope, that he had seen on the woman that he had just spoken.
The statue represented Mary with her hands stretched in front of her, as to show, and at the same time offering her child. Even Jesus stretched his little hands, as a little child that would pass from an embrace to another.
"Mother" he prayed "I implore you, assist me when I will go to speak in the name of the persons in danger. Save them. Save them, in the name of your love for your child. They are so few those who are able to see your love and the love of Jesus. Yet the sight of every child should speak to them of such. He has taught us: be like children. The world perishes, because people turn their shoulders to the children. Childhood is killed, in themselves and in the others. We should allow the world to be the place of love and of the sun, only this is needed, so that we would go back to childhood…
…If it is necessary, take my life for their life. Take my life of a tired man, ill and save their life. I am ashamed to offer so little. My life is turning to the end. What could ever be worth, those few months, of perhaps years? But if they save themselves, perhaps the terrible fratricide war that is in course, will appease. There will be no more death that calls for death… Oh mother, it is terrible that one thousand and two hundred years later after the descent in the world of you son and after the Passion painful, we Christians are continuing to fight one another reciprocally…
…I am not able to tell you more, Mother. My words are not important, even if they have acquired so much fame among the people. Because, what could we possibly say? We repeat only clumsily what Jesus said. Only this we can do: to offer ourselves for the others. Not only for those that are menaced of death. Even for those who menace death. When we repeat the words of Jesus, we have to take care about the purity of our hearts and of our lips. But when we offer the life, it is him, who purifies us, so that we can become sacrificial victim."
It was, by now, deep night, when Anthony, continuing in repeating his prayers, lifted his head. He turned his look over the statue that he had in front of him. He opened wide his eyes. A sudden shiver of happiness enveloped him. Mary’s arms appeared even more stretched. The child was nearly touching his face with his little feet. And those little feet were not cold as stone… They seemed to be throbbing with live. They were not throwing him out, they were giving themselves with thrust in his arms. He seemed to hear: 'Take him for a moment... I will entrust him to you... I want that you learn, that you found what you had been looking all your life... You must be the one who will find the lost things in the world...'
It was dawn, when he raised from the ground. Staggering on his numb legs, he looked at the figure that he had in front of him, and that again had become a statue sculptured by a human hand, with the face modelled, over a human face, known. The flame of the oil lamp was trembling and was oscillating as before. At the light of the day that was rising it seemed a purple flower with delicate petals. He opened his hands and looked at them.
"So" he thought incredulous "last night I really held baby Jesus in my arms? I have held him, really, as a lost thing, something that I found and have to be given back to the people who lost it?"
He refreshed his face in the warm water in the basin and got out of the room. They had to live quiet early in order to reach Verona before midday. He didn’t know what to expect there, all the same, on the restlessness dominated the trust.
Chapter 37
Going back to Verona the ambassadors had to travel on horseback. But Anthony remembered that Francis had prohibited to the friars to go horseback riding. Because of that, he decided to walk. However, the friars being concerned of his health were able to convince him to sit on a cart trained by a donkey.
Chapter 37
The road at the onset crossed a flat lowland, swampy, that followed the shore of the river. Little far, beyond the city of Lonigo, were the possessions of the count Santbonifacio. The wife of the count had sent for Anthony with the invitation to spend the night at the palace.
The twilight was descending, when the cart arrived at the portal of the palace. The countess ran out, to welcome the guest. She was a young beautiful woman, belonging to a noble lombardo lineage. The marriage had been taken place not long ago, the couple loved one another very much. The woman was desperate. The peremptoriness of Ezzelino, that had made her to be sent away from the castle and hadn`t even wanted to listen to her demands, had convinced her that the husband was going to be condemned to death. While sobbing she said:
"By mercy of God, friar, save my husband… Save him… I love him… We have waited in vain for two years for a son. Now that God has blessed us, and I have to give to my husband an heir, Ezzelino menaces my husband of death…"
She had golden hair and big black eyes. The pregnancy had rendered her delicate features seem as carved in the ivory by a skilled artist.
"Ezzelino" she continued "is an intractable man. He has remained a barbarian German as his grand father. My sister is unhappy, to have him as a husband. And that Gualberto that he has brought from Padua, is an authentic monster! A wicked! Friar Anthony, I beg you, I implore you!" she fell on her knees. "Save my husband. I am told that every thing that you ask to God, he will grant it to you, always! "
"Stand up, countess. I beg you, stand up. It is not true that God grants every prayer. But I believe that if all of us pray, we will impetrate the salvation for your husband. In particular you, madam, should pray God. Our Lord, Jesus, particularly blesses a woman that is expecting a son. Her prayer is always granted, since she pray with two mouths. You can even imagine how much Jesus loves the women who are attenting an heir. Thanks to their suffering and to their efforts arrives on earth a new human soul. They are authentic collaborators of God in the work of growing in the world, to which God wants to give joy. Therefore, pray, and be confident."
An elderly maid accompanied Anthony to the room assigned to him. It was a big room a little dark. In a corner on a small table there was a statue of the Madonna with a child on her arm. In front of the stature was burning a candle.
"The countess has promised this statue to our parish priest as an offer for the salvation of her husband" said the woman, placing on the table the burning candle and checking that there was water in the jug. "It was sculptured by a Verona skulptor. Oh, if God want to grant this mercy to our lady!" she sighed while weaving her hands.
"I have been her nanny. I have been always on her side. I know her since she was very little. She is so good-natured. And she loves very much her husband. In these times, in which there are so many unhappy marriages, theirs is really a model marriage… Pray, friar Anthony, that the Lord show them mercy."
"You too, pray, so that will happen what we all desire."
The old maid left and Anthony knelt in front of the statue. Even if didn’t have to walk, the trip on the cart had been hard, jolted over the stones, and it had tired his so much. All his body was in pain. All the same he decided not to lie down and to keep watch that night so that he would have good result the day after.
The trembling light of the oil lamp flooded of spots the face of Mary. Maybe the sculpture, in creating of the holiest Virgin, had taken as a model the countess of Sanbonifacio, because there was a great resemblance between the face of Mary with the face of the countess. Remained on it the same expression of suffering, of fear and at the same time of hope, that he had seen on the woman that he had just spoken.
The statue represented Mary with her hands stretched in front of her, as to show, and at the same time offering her child. Even Jesus stretched his little hands, as a little child that would pass from an embrace to another.
"Mother" he prayed "I implore you, assist me when I will go to speak in the name of the persons in danger. Save them. Save them, in the name of your love for your child. They are so few those who are able to see your love and the love of Jesus. Yet the sight of every child should speak to them of such. He has taught us: be like children. The world perishes, because people turn their shoulders to the children. Childhood is killed, in themselves and in the others. We should allow the world to be the place of love and of the sun, only this is needed, so that we would go back to childhood…
…If it is necessary, take my life for their life. Take my life of a tired man, ill and save their life. I am ashamed to offer so little. My life is turning to the end. What could ever be worth, those few months, of perhaps years? But if they save themselves, perhaps the terrible fratricide war that is in course, will appease. There will be no more death that calls for death… Oh mother, it is terrible that one thousand and two hundred years later after the descent in the world of you son and after the Passion painful, we Christians are continuing to fight one another reciprocally…
…I am not able to tell you more, Mother. My words are not important, even if they have acquired so much fame among the people. Because, what could we possibly say? We repeat only clumsily what Jesus said. Only this we can do: to offer ourselves for the others. Not only for those that are menaced of death. Even for those who menace death. When we repeat the words of Jesus, we have to take care about the purity of our hearts and of our lips. But when we offer the life, it is him, who purifies us, so that we can become sacrificial victim."
It was, by now, deep night, when Anthony, continuing in repeating his prayers, lifted his head. He turned his look over the statue that he had in front of him. He opened wide his eyes. A sudden shiver of happiness enveloped him. Mary’s arms appeared even more stretched. The child was nearly touching his face with his little feet. And those little feet were not cold as stone… They seemed to be throbbing with live. They were not throwing him out, they were giving themselves with thrust in his arms. He seemed to hear: 'Take him for a moment... I will entrust him to you... I want that you learn, that you found what you had been looking all your life... You must be the one who will find the lost things in the world...'
It was dawn, when he raised from the ground. Staggering on his numb legs, he looked at the figure that he had in front of him, and that again had become a statue sculptured by a human hand, with the face modelled, over a human face, known. The flame of the oil lamp was trembling and was oscillating as before. At the light of the day that was rising it seemed a purple flower with delicate petals. He opened his hands and looked at them.
"So" he thought incredulous "last night I really held baby Jesus in my arms? I have held him, really, as a lost thing, something that I found and have to be given back to the people who lost it?"
He refreshed his face in the warm water in the basin and got out of the room. They had to live quiet early in order to reach Verona before midday. He didn’t know what to expect there, all the same, on the restlessness dominated the trust.